


For Every Cold Night

by Trisdani



Series: fundywastaken [8]
Category: Video Blogging RPF, mcyt
Genre: Cold, Fluff, Kisses, M/M, New Years, Paradise Found, Too tired for tags, fundy’s tired and goddamn dream is there for him
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:55:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28462722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trisdani/pseuds/Trisdani
Summary: He smiled and smiled and smiled. Looking at Fundy across the counter triggered no other action but a smile.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Floris | Fundy, Clay | Dream/Floris | Fundy
Series: fundywastaken [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2004088
Comments: 17
Kudos: 167





	1. Chapter 1

Fundy tapped his finger to each tick of the clock. It was late and the temperature outside was only getting colder. His eyes lazily wandered through the room, letting out a muffled yawn and rested his head in his arms. Meetings. Everyday was plagued with these goddamn meetings. He only wished he could get through the next five minutes without passing out. Ranboo and Tubbo were stuck on… some topic that he had barely paid attention to. Another yawn had escaped.

Within the past two weeks and a half, he felt as if the weather had grown more and more miserable, and he still had yet to construct the appliances to keep his home warm. Maybe he’d find the time to work on it if his schedule wasn’t so filled with tasks from New L’manberg. What, in between the chilling nights of tossing and turning, running from one place to another, attending these long meetings, and feeding more time to just sit there and be exhausted— he couldn’t wait for what the new year had in store for him. Perhaps if he politely asked for a day off…

His finger paused when the hand on the clock ticked nine o’clock. He straightened his back and looked over at Tubbo who, too, was focused on the clock. The young president looked around the room with a tired sight, rubbing his eyes. Clearly they hadn’t made as much progress as he had hoped. “Okay,” he whispered to no one specifically. “You’re all free to go home. Don’t come in tomorrow, you deserve the break.”

The whole room stood up at once. Quackity went through the room wishing everyone a happy New Years— oh that’s right, he wasn’t attending the party. Tubbo looked over at Fundy, Fundy looked away. Everyone filed out and soon the seats surrounding the table were empty. “Fundy, I don’t want to keep you long but,” Tubbo started out, nervously playing with the end of his tie.

Fundy nodded and smiled tiredly. “What do you need?”

“The party,” he said. God, Fundy wished he didn’t RSVP for that damn party. “I- I was wondering if you could stay indoors with me?”

“Indoors?” Fundy questioned, eyes still flickering to the clock as it still continued to tick.

The president sighed and looked down at the table, pushing the few sheets of paper back into a neatly piled stack. “Tommy really wants to set off fireworks and I just— I’m not ready for that yet,” he said hesitantly.

Fundy took a breath, he had the next day off anyways, he could spare a few minutes for Tubbo. “I thought you said you didn’t want fireworks at the party.”

“It’s the least I can do,” Tubbo said, head down.

Okay, Fundy took it back. He really doesn’t have the energy for that. “I’ll stay indoors with you, Tubbo. It’ll be fun, we can even put on a movie and stuff, alright?”

Tubbo smiled, “thanks, Fundy. I’ll see you on New Years, alright?”

Fundy waved as his last bit of energy carried him through the door. And like an unwanted hug, the outside air wrapped its arms around him in it’s icy breath. He took the zipper of his jacket in shaky hands, slowly zipping it up to his neck, as if it held any of the escaped warmth from before. Long and agonizing steps led him back home. Staring straight ahead, the right foot went forward and then the left. Maybe if he wasn’t so lost in the satisfying crunch of the snow, he would’ve noticed his husband calling out his name. He did, however, see his home growing closer in the distance.

Upon finally reaching the door, he just stared at the frost glistened lock. If the gods went easy on him, then maybe he could just stick in his keys and turn the lock with no problem. Digging the keys out of his pockets, he pushed it towards the keyhole and felt it stop. He hit his head against the door with a groan. His nearly white morphed hair tickled his nose which burned from the cold. The gods were most definitely not going easy on him. He kept pushing it in, hoping the ice frozen within the lock would just chip away sooner than later. 

Chip— Chip— Chip—

“... Fundy?” 

Chip— A hand suddenly grabbed his. Fundy didn’t have the energy to pull away, but to look up and see the familiar mask with that poorly drawn smile, he dropped his keys and wrapped his arms around him. “Hey,” Dream chuckled softly, “are you okay?” Fundy only shook his head, and kept himself close to Dream, the only source of heat in a mile radius. Dream, however, held a worried look, bending down to pick up the fallen keys while also holding Fundy close to him wasn't the easiest task, but it worked well enough. He tried his luck in digging the key into the hole but was faced with the same results. “Fundy?” He nudged him, making sure that he hadn’t fallen asleep in his arms. 

Fundy hummed.

“I’m going to teleport inside. Are you alright enough to stay out here for another moment?” Dream asked, tapping Fundy’s upper arm. The other nodded and hummed. “Okay,” Dream sighed, slowly peeling Fundy off of him. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

It didn’t take long before Fundy saw the front door open up to reveal his husband and torch. “Please don’t burn down my house,” he quietly laughed as he walked inside quickly and kicked the door closed. He kept his jacket on as there wasn’t much of temperature change between the indoors and outdoors. He looked over at Dream who extinguished the torch and placed it back into his inventory. The blond smiled as he looked back at him, the two caught up in the silence and comfort that they were both there looking at one another. “So,” he started off, “I take it you’re back from your business trip?” He asked.

Dream cringed and looked away. “I- uh, well that trip got cut short.”

Fundy frowned, “I see.”

Dream laughed nervously. “But, regardless, I was planning on visiting for New Years anyways—“

“That’s nice.” Fundy nodded, he turned on his heel and made his way down the hall to his bedroom.

“Fundy?” Dream questioned.

“Yes, my love?” Fundy called back.

“You’re mad at me,” he said. “Aren’t you?”

Fundy stopped outside the doorway, he looked at Dream and smiled. “I’m just… tired. And I’m sorry I don’t have the energy for this conversation right now, about how I’m upset that you’ve spent more time with an exiled teenager than me after our wedding… I am just so tired and so cold. Please, just spare this conversation for a day and can we just be happy that we’re next to each other again?” He asked.

Dream nodded, “yeah, I can do that.”

Fundy mouthed a thank you and went back into his room. Changing out of the days clothes went by fast and he was suddenly walking back out with an armful of blankets. Dream was knelt down by the fire, stoking it with the poker. Fundy dumped the blankets down on the couch and walked over to Dream, kneeling down next to him. “Is there a reason the house is a literal ice box?” Dream asked, looking over at him. 

Fundy simply just shrugged in response, letting the fire’s warmth kiss his freezing hands. “Are you going to go change? I can go make something warm to drink.”

Dream smiled, he went to kiss Fundy’s forehead and ruffled the new white hair. Fundy sunk deeper into the touch as Dream moved to rubbing the underside of his chin. “Fuck…” Fundy sighed, his eyelids threatening to close themselves, “...you.”

“You tired?” He whispered, continuing to rub around his husband's ears. “You said you were tired. Wanna get some sleep?”

“You,” Fundy yawned. “You get changed. Now…”

“Are we sleeping upstairs or— oh… and you’re out,” Dream chuckled to himself when looking down at his husband who fell asleep on his shoulder. He picked Fundy up and carried him towards the couch. “Okay, I’ll be back,” he said, though he was sure Fundy was too deeply fallen to even hear him. 

Dream walked over to the bedroom and changed into his pajamas (sweats and an old T-shirt Fundy had gotten him for his birthday). He dropped his inventory into his chest. He stood there looking at the empty slot where his old pickaxe usually sat, a long sigh left him, but he shut the chest and ignored it the best he could. He untied the straps that held his mask up, weighing it with thought, he left it on the table and finally made his way back towards the living room, where there was now a vacant couch. 

“I made drinks,” Fundy spoke up. Dream looked over towards the kitchen that held an opening for his husband to smile at him from the fridge. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“I thought you were asleep,” Dream pouted, looking over the two mugs that sat in front of him.

“Oh, I was,” Fundy nodded. “But then I got cold and woke up.” Dream lifted an eyebrow while Fundy brushed it off. “Don’t worry about it, hopefully I can set up the heater tomorrow.”

“Wish I could help,” Dream said while pulling one of the two mugs closer to him. He eyed it carefully and looked up towards Fundy, double checking for that mischievous smirk.

Fundy laughed, “it’s just hot cocoa, no booze tonight, babe.”

Dream took a sip and smiled. How lucky was he to have a husband that made the best goddamn hot cocoa in the world. He smiled and smiled and smiled. Looking at Fundy across the counter triggered no other action but a smile. He moved so he could trap Fundy in his arms, the fox hybrid relaxed and rested with his back against Dream’s chest. They moved through the small kitchen. No music was needed as they danced to the beat of their hearts. 

“Dream?” Fundy whispered.

“Yeah?”

Fundy turned, looking up at Dream, his eyes soft as he took in the blonds face. “I…” he was breathless. “I love you so fucking much.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> btw— just for this fic I hc that dream can only read galactic alphabet (enchanting table language)

Morning came soon enough. By the time Dream awoke, it was still dark out. He shivered and dug himself deeper into his pocket of warmth. He faced his husband who was still dead asleep. Raking his fingers through his grayish white hair, he could see small hints of ginger but it was a cute quality nonetheless. The blond pressed his lips to his forehead before untangling himself out of bed, to which he was met by a sharp wave of icy cold. The option of running back under the covers was tempting.

He yawned, stretching out his back. Several cracks being let out, he cringed at the sound and took a deep breath. The watch on Fundy’s side table said it was only half past six. Early enough to actually be productive within the day, but the sudden hand dragging him back down onto the bed inferred otherwise. Fundy subconsciously pulled Dream over on top of him. 

Fundy was warm and Dream was cold. It was inevitable that he wasn’t going to deny the embrace from his husband. He propped himself up by holding his arms on either side of Fundy. Leaning down, he pressed his lips in the crook of his husband's neck, earning a content sigh from the once ginger.

After a while, he wrangled himself out of Fundy's hold. Stepping back and kneeling down beside the bed, he traced his finger along his jawline. “Funds,” he whispered. Only soft snores escaped his mouth. “C’mon, Its, you gotta get up. You can’t sleep all day,” he whispered.

Fundy turned his head, looking at Dream with soft, tired, eyes. He reached out, setting his hand on Dream’s head, mumbling, “yes, I can.”

Dream took the hand off his head and held it in his hands, warming it up between his two palms. He placed multiple kisses along Fundy’s knuckles, absorbing the sight of his husband’s flushed cheeks in his mind. “I’m making you coffee, alright?” He tempted, squeezing his hand a bit.

Fundy frowned, holding out his other hand in a grabbing motion. Dream dragged him out of the bed and held him up with his arms. “I hate how only you can get away with calling me that, Fundy mumbled.

“Calling you what?” he mused

Fundy hummed, “you’re too pretty to play stupid, D.” He let one of his hands stray up to Dream’s hair, fingers playing with the subtle golden curls.

They stood together with their arms wrapped down around one another. Fundy wasn’t used to this much physical affection, if he were to be honest. The past month of neglect and here he is being spoiled. He’ll relish the touch he can get before Dream would eventually go off on another trip, no contact or message for weeks at a time.

They shivered under the cold, Fundy dug himself deeper into the embrace. “Give me your sweatshirt,” he said. And Dream made no comment, slipping off the green fabric off over his head— he had put it on in the middle of the night, the peak of the night too cold for the few layers of blankets. He kept an arm held onto Fundy’s waist, the other struggling to slide the sweatshirt over the white haired head. Fundy assisted the rest of the process, embracing the already warm sweatshirt like a second hug. 

Dream dragged Fundy along to the kitchen. Already setting up a kettle for boiling water, he hummed a familiar tune to himself, watching steadily as Fundy sat down and rested his chin in his hands. They shared the soft atmosphere of tranquility, knowledge only so far that they could tell it won’t last for long.

The sudden ‘clink’ of a glass made him look down in front of him. The dark swirling brown of the coffee let out a subtle steam. Fundy took a sip, eyes widening when he tasted a familiar caramel flavor. He looked over at Dream, who had already turned to prepare his own cup. “You remembered?” He questioned, breaking their silence and making Dream look up from his routine.

“You sound surprised,” he replied, his back turned as he focused on his own cup.

Fundy tilted his head. “I thought you only paid attention to the extravagant things,” he pondered to himself. “We only got coffee together for our third date. It just seems like an odd thing to remember from something so long ago.” He tapped his finger against the table. Dream still faced away from him, he could hear the ‘clinks’ of the spoon hitting the ceramic, but when Dream turned back around, he held this warm smile while looking at him.

“I remember you ordered your coffee with whipped cream,” he said, looking down at the ground. He sighed, shaking his head, “which I definitely pointed out as kind of odd, but you made me taste your sweet caffeine. It’s hard to not remember such a childlike smile on your face as you were practically bouncing off the walls that day.” He tilted his stare and held his own cup to his lips. “I want to see that smile again… even if it’s just a fraction of what it was, I’ll be content.”

“And here I am, just shocked that you remembered that I like a bit of caramel in my coffee.”

“You don’t always have to have such low expectations from me.”

“I don’t, just sometimes I begin to think that I expect a little too much from you. I mean was it too much for you to even stop by or even talk to me after the wedding?”

“I had work to do, you know that.”

“Oh, yes, manipulating a child.”

“You mean protecting the SMP and L’manburg– which may I remind you, is your home.”

“L’manburg stopped being my home after everyone forgot what they were fighting for. I could care less of what happens to that land.”

“Why are you quiet?”

“Because I don’t know what the right thing to say to you is,” Dream exclaimed. “You either let me embrace you or you want to argue about something which, yeah, admittedly everything is my fault. Are you happy? I apologize for everything I’ve ever done to hurt you. I apologize for George crashing one of the happiest days of my life. I apologize for feeling so ashamed from after what George did that I had to leave cause the thought of hurting you anymore was like a thousand knives.”

“You hurt me more when you left!”

“I’m sorry,” Dream whispered. 

Fundy sighed, he dug his head into his arms, leaving his coffee untouched. “I hate getting upset at you.”

“But you can’t just move on from this and ignore it just cause it’s easier.”

Fundy reached out and took a long drowning sip. His eyes ignored the temptation to look over at Dream and accept that he was right. Instead, he took a deep breath and stared at the old wooden table instead. 

“I’m going to go visit Niki,” he said abruptly as he stood up. “Do you need anything while I’m out?” 

Dream let out a sigh as he nodded slowly. “Yeah, where did you put your book that translates the alphabet?”

Fundy quirked an eyebrow. “Why do you need it? You already write the ancient language perfectly.”

“No, Funds, I need it to translate to English.”

“Sorry, the concept of you reading is odd to me.”

“Fundy, please?”

“Yeah, okay, it’s on the coffee table,” he complied. “Don’t rip the pages or crack the spine or anything…”

“I’ll take care of it,” Dream reassured. “I just need to translate a few directions and I’ll put it back right where I found it. No need to worry.”

“Somehow worry is a common feeling around you.”

As if the light conversation of Dream’s poor translating skills, the two seemed to find a comforting balance from the disagreement. They’ll tread softly as for hope to not tip it too far down the wrong side.

Fundy got up with his empty mug of coffee. The warmth of the morning drink and exchange of words finally catching up to him. “I’ll be back in an hour or two,” he said. “Message me if you burned down the house or anything.”

***

And so Fundy came back in the midst of Dream working. The blond sat in the middle of their living room surrounded by a display of metal parts and books.

“Dream?” Fundy questioned, stood at the doorway.

The mentioned looked up, his mask back on despite once being the only one in the home. “Fundy,” he nodded, looking back down at the pages.

Fundy stepped forward, looking at the scene bestowed below him. “So… what is this?” Fundy asked as he sat next to Dream on the floor. He watched the confusion dance across his husband's eyes as the blond stared at the paper instructions.

“This is a uh…” he flipped the packet around, revealing the title of the contraption in English, along with scribbled symbols in pencil below it. He read aloud, “portable heater?” He looked up. “You’re back quite soon. And what time is it now? It’s—“

“It’s ten o’clock, and you’re still in the house. It’s far more surprising seeing you still here than for me being back early from a grocery run.” Fundy said, setting down a paper bag in front of him quietly. He watched in amusement at the blond who flipped the pages and stared at the pieces that matched up to it. “Dream, what are you doing?”

“I am assembling a heater thing,” he answered as if it explained everything.

“Why?”

“Because it’s cold and seems simple enough to do.”

Fundy facepalmed. “Honey, you can barely feel the cold. And I thought you didn’t know how to read English, despite basic words. Where’s the rest of your posse today?”

“Out,” he said, “and well, that’s why I’m translating it… very slowly…” he trailed off. “And good husbands do things to make their spouse feel comfortable. Sue me if you prefer the cold more!”

“Okay.” Fundy crossed his arms. “I’ll bite into whatever the hell you’re playing. Where’s George and Sapnap?”

“What? I can’t do something for my amazing husband out of pure will?” Dream gasped. Fundy gave him a look which had broken the facade fast. “Okay, Sapnap is out of town with Quackity and Karl. And George is either still asleep or he’s out with Ninja.”

“Oh, I see,” he scoffed.

Dream rolled his eyes and fell back. “Shut up.”

“The trio split up to be simps for the weekend, huh?”

“Its and D time is long overdue,” Dream chuckled. “Just embrace the love!” 

Fundy shifted and dragged the warrior up over his lap, more comfortably so he was in his arms. “Were we not affectionate enough last night and morning?”

“Mm, yes,” the blond sighed as he grabbed the white haired man's hands. “But cuddles…”

Fundy smiled down at him before looking back at the mess on the floor. “We can cuddle after this heater is finished. Would you like some help?”

Dream shook his head in his lap.

“Okay,” Fundy stopped. The two stared at one another. Pink flushed Dream’s cheeks and he looked back down at his mess. Fundy stood back up, ruffling Dream’s hair as he passed him by, avoiding the arms reaching out to pull him back down. “Then I’m going to go clean up the rest of the house. Call me if you need help.”

Dream scoffed as he watched his husband leave the room. He sat back up, attempting to read the instructions and rough translations. “Fundy!” He whined, “I need help!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don’t be like me. go to sleep. If you’re reading fanfics at 3am then please shut your eyes and sleep. drink water, remember to eat, put your phone screen down or close your computer. go outside, breathe some air. please please please take some time to take care of yourself. remember that you are loved and pretty poggers. have a nice day/ afternoon/ morning/ night. 💕

**Author's Note:**

> *bites lip* hey so this is going to be a three part story since I realized that I have no energy to continue the rest of this tonight aha


End file.
